


requiescence

by wynnings



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, M/M, bros being bros, dudes being dudes, let ryuji say fuck, ryuji just wants affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnings/pseuds/wynnings
Summary: A typical rainy afternoon in LeBlanc's attic. Coffee, a good book and Ryuji screaming at the TV.





	requiescence

**Author's Note:**

> its 1am but i keep seeing beautiful akiryu art and i just want bi akira @atlus make it happen!!

An old novel in hand and a fresh cup of coffee set nearby, the dull flickering light of the lamp above the sofa and the sound of rain tapping the glass of his window.

\-- And the sound of Ryuji screeching in annoyance at the television, video game controller gripped tightly in his fingers.

_A typical rainy day_ , Akira mused as he took a sip of his coffee and looked up from his beloved book, a classic, with an eyebrow quirked at the boy who had thrown himself on the opposite side of the couch less than an hour before, legs intertwined in a tangle that didn’t look like it would be unraveled any time soon. Ryuji hadn’t noticed Akira had changed the focus of his attention, his face scrunched into a concentration Akira rarely saw grace his features. Not when he tried to cram a year’s worth of work into his head before an exam. Not even when they ran together every Sunday morning. _This game must really be pushing him_.

Another curse escaped the blonde’s mouth as his fingers mashed against each button on the controller repeatedly. Then another. And another. If Futaba had been here, Akira would have covered her ears to protect her from such foul language.

The manner in which he acted reminded the Joker of a time when Ann had once questioned how Akira could put up with Ryuji at times when they were such polar opposites in many regards. Whereas Ryuji frequently acted bold and brass, straightforward and loud, Akira was cunning, quick-thinking and silent unless his voice was necessary. Yet, the leader of the Phantom Thieves didn’t see their clashing attributes as a problem at all. They complimented each other, he had answered, even if it didn’t seem like they could. The lasting relationship between the pair, and the boundless support they offered one another, was a testament to his belief. 

‘Fuck it.’

The controller landed with a thud onto the wooden surface of Akira’s floor and the television was promptly silenced. The only sounds that remained were the rain and Ryuji breathing heavily for a moment, frustration from his loss dying down, before breathing out a sigh and throwing himself on top of Akira, who was now hiding his face behind the book quite purposefully. Ryuji frowned at this, tapping the cover of the book with his finger several times, before Akira finally met his gaze by lowering his novel ever so slightly, nose peeking over the top of the page.

‘Yes?’

Ryuji huffed at the simple answer and reached out to pull the book out of his hands and to instead place it on the floor. Gently. Carefully. Akira did care for it quite a bit after all.

‘Well, that was rude,’ said boy hummed playfully, acting as if the weight of another was not quite literally upon him. Teasing Ryuji always produced the best reactions, and given that he was already so worked up, now was the perfect opportunity. ‘I was enjoying that book, you know?’

‘Well I wasn’t enjoying my game,’ the blonde’s chin now rested on Akira’s chest, eyes looking up at him as their legs remained in a new, but just as tangled, mess of limbs. ‘That damned boss just wouldn’t die. I tried like, a hundred times!’

‘I don’t think it was that many. You only got here forty minutes ago.’

‘Dude, just shut up and comfort your poor boyfriend. God.’

Akira snorted at how bluntly Ryuji asked for what he wanted and sighing in mock defeat, he raised a hand to the mess of dyed hair and began rubbing his head gently, scratching with his nails ever so slightly the way he knew relaxed him—evident from the happy grumble that he gave. Ryuji preferred being held, even if he wouldn't admit it. Something about being cuddled just soothed him, and Akira had known him long enough to understand exactly how to go about making him comfortable. When they had first began their relationship, the grumbles of happiness were likened to a dog. Ryuji hadn't been impressed. But now that Akira thought about it, it was an even more familiar sort of sound, almost like— 

‘You know, you kind of sound like Morgana.’

There was a silence once these words were said, Akira’s hand still and Ryuji slowly pulling his head up to meet his gaze once more, expression showing nothing but betrayal at the mention of their teammate in the height of his relaxation. Pushing a finger against Akira's temple with a less than pleased groan, Ryuji threw his weight back down with a grunt.

‘Way to ruin the mood, man.’

‘You’re welcome.’


End file.
